Numbers
by Rome OMD
Summary: Grimmjow wakes up in a post-war world, where Aizen has been defeated and Ichigo is living a normal life. As disorienting as things are, there's one thing that is clear to him: the memory of Ichigo's hand on his after their battle in Las Noches. Who would've thought that someone could change Grimmjow's life with just that?
1. Part 1

Hello! Just in case things are a little confusing: in terms of timeline, we're going to pause after Aizen's been defeated. As the summary's stated, Grimmjow's woken up from his longtime coma, Ichigo is living a normal student life, and then, I'm going to have their paths intersect (just because I can hehe), and the following story is the result. Also, please note that this will become a romance story between the Ichigo and Grimmjow.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Bleach_.

Numbers

Part 1

By Rome OMD

When he finally awoke, Grimmjow should've been thinking about the unremitting pain from the gash down his side so generously given to him by Nnoitra, or about the residual wounds from his long debilitating battle with Ichigo, or, at the very least, thinking about how the heck he had ended up in Szayel Aporro's lab, where he was lying on a cold metal table, too weak to move, with Harribel standing over him.

Through half-lidded eyes, he watched her dab his side with a damp cloth as she reached for a syringe and a small glass vial sitting on a tray beside them. The vial looked indistinguishable from all the others lined up on the shelves behind her, leading Grimmjow to wonder if Harribel had chosen it at random. She filled the syringe with the vial's contents, which was of a mossy green hue that made Grimmjow uneasy, and without even a warning glance, injected his vein. Grimmjow immediately let out a painful scream behind clenched teeth as his arm burned with what felt like liquid fire running through his body.

Harribel glanced unsympathetically at him before retracting the needle and dabbing the area with a fresh cloth. 'The pain will pass,' she said before reaching for more of that vile green substance and a new syringe.

As she moved to his other arm, he wondered how Harribel had accessed to Szayel Aporro's lab without being kicked out by the scientist, who was known to be extremely possessive of his space. She must've caught the query in his gaze, because she said, 'He's dead. Nearly everyone is. It's just us.'

'What…' Grimmjow weakly muttered.

'Don't speak. I need you to relax,' Harribel said, holding up the syringe.

Before his mind could even formulate a response, Grimmjow yelled again when the needle contacted his body for the second time, his weary muscles guarding against the searing pain, which felt like swords repeatedly stabbing an extremely tender wound. By the time Harribel was done, Grimmjow was exhausted and found it difficult to keep his eyes open. Harribel was starting to look blurry.

Yet with all the disorientation and pain and the frustration of not knowing what was going on, there was one thing that was clear in Grimmjow's mind: the memory of how Ichigo's hand felt when he grabbed Grimmjow's after his defeat and slowly lowered him down to the ground. And the feeling remained, like a lingering phantom touch, as Grimmjow's world faded into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

The memories of his life as a human only started coming to him when Grimmjow was an Adjuchas, which he found ironic: the more he cannibalistically ate other Hollows—like a voracious beast or self-serving monster—the more he began to remember his past humanity. They didn't come often, though. And when they did, they only came in snapshots, as if someone had given him a bunch of photos and said, 'Here, this is what you used to be,' without giving any further explanation and left him to his own devices to piece everything together. But since Grimmjow was too busy trying to just survive and grow stronger, he paid them little attention and filed the memories in the back of his head, but he never forgot them.

It was after he had been transformed into an Arrancar—the one and only thing he was grateful to Aizen for—that he began revisiting them. At first, he started doing it out of curiosity and boredom. When he wasn't out fighting, he would find a place to himself and retreat back into that collection of snapshot memories. At the time, he didn't care what they meant or signified. They were a way to kill the mundaneness of Las Noches, and that was it.

But the more he observed his reflection in mirrors, glass windows, and even the impeccably shiny floors of Aizen's throne room (which Aizen demanded be kept immaculate at all times; it was things like this that reminded Grimmjow that their leader was not completely infallible after all), the more he saw someone who was more than just one of Aizen's disposable henchmen. He saw a man who had a story. So Grimmjow's motive to revisiting those memories evolved from bored curiosity to an eagerness to discover anything that could help him understand who he had once been.

Most of what Grimmjow remembered were only snapshots, like the orange sun of dusk seen from a mountaintop and the face of a bear baring its teeth from across a forest, leading him to believe that he used to have some affinity for nature. And then there was the one that came back more often than he liked: him, no older than eleven or twelve years old, spending the night sitting in front of a couple of gravestones. He didn't know who they belonged to (Friends? Parents?), but he always felt empty whenever he saw them.

And then there were others that he was able to tie together, albeit often by only the barest thread. He knew that he had an older sister who constantly fell ill, and for whom he waited on hand and foot because he adored her, staying by her bedside every night until she fell asleep. He also knew that while he was growing up, he had felt different, not quite understanding why when he'd be relaxing by the lake with his sister during the warmer seasons, his eyes were always drawn to the males swimming in the water instead of the girls playing on the beach. When he confessed this to her, she had smiled and said, winking, 'Well, they are very handsome, aren't they?'

And he knew that eventually, his sister would be taken by a plague that overtook the city but spared him, and he would grow angry and frustrated, resentful of the world that mercilessly stole her from him.

However, Grimmjow understood that in the end, none of these memories, no matter how many of them he'd eventually be able to piece together, would change the fact that he was forever a Hollow. He'd declare it to all his opponents, as they took their last breaths and stared up at him with abject fear, pinned to the ground underneath the heel of his foot, so that they could remember that it was a Hollow that defeated them. But he knew internally that it was also so that he could remember the fact himself.

Now here he was, sitting on a cold metal table with his wounds healing speedily, thanks to Harribel who was nowhere to be found. As he walked out of Szayel Aporro's laboratory, he kept reminding himself that he was a bloodthirsty Hollow who didn't care, who didn't feel, whose memories didn't mean anything, and whose existence would never amount to anything more than a dead soul, cursed to wander through life with no greater purpose than to exist.

* * *

'You weren't shitting me. There really is no one left here.'

Harribel turned around, watching Grimmjow as he entered Aizen's former throne room. His manner was stiff and uneven, like he was stubbornly trying to hide any outward display of pain. He stopped a few feet from where she stood.

'What are you doing hanging around here? Where's our fearsome leader?'

'Imprisoned in Seireitei.'

Grimmjow smirked. What a pleasant surprise. 'I think that just made my day. So, what now? You claimin' the throne now that the royal bastard is gone?' he asked.

'Until he is either released or escapes, I am the new ruler of Hueco Mundo. If you wish to take Aizen-sama's place, you may battle me for it.'

Grimmjow visibly scowled when she used the honorific with Aizen's name. The only regret he had with

Aizen's death was that it wasn't him who delivered the final blow. Oh, how he would've relished having Aizen kneeling before him, weak, pathetic, and _defeated_. 'I'd first swear allegiance to Soul Society and join their Shinigami posse before even sitting in the same chair as Aizen did. You don't need to worry about me; you can rule the whole expanse of Hueco Mundo to your heart's content.'

Grimmjow folded his arms and leaned against a marble pillar. He hesitated before speaking again. 'By the way… thanks. I honestly didn't think I'd make it.' The words of gratitude left a disagreeable taste on his tongue so he quickly changed the subject. 'I didn't know you were crazy scientist buddies with Szayel. I didn't think anyone but that crazy son of a bitch knew how to navigate through that tortuous labyrinth of a lab.' e hesHe

'No, we were not. For the better in my opinion. I only went through his shelves of pharmaceuticals; everything else is nonsensical to me.'

'At least you were able to distinguish that much. Though it looked like you had picked the most off-putting color on the shelf and decided to give it a go.'

Harribel paused before continuing, 'I was a healer, a 'nurse' as it was called, when I was human. That is why some of those medications, like the one I used on you, were familiar to me.'

This captured Grimmjow's interest. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 'When you were human? You can remember when you were human?'

'Some of it. The amount that I do remember, however, is enough to give me a clear picture of who I used to be.' Harribel turned around and started walking towards the balcony that connected to the throne room. Grimmjow followed her outside.

'Bullshit. You can chase all you want after those memories, but they ain't coming back. You died to that part of yourself when you became a Hollow.' He hated how he knew that from personal experience.

'You're wrong,' she countered. 'It's a part of who we were and who we are. We were all once human.'

Grimmjow frowned. He was certainly a little frustrated, maybe even a little jealous, that Harribel had a much clearer memory of her past than he did.

And perhaps it was out of that mix of frustration and jealousy that he replied, ''Che, you're becoming weak, Harribel. That you would want to retain your humanity is sickening,' Grimmjow replied. 'We're stronger than that. We're much more than that. I could destroy an army of theirs with just one _cero _without even trying. They're weak.'

But internally, he wasn't sure if he really meant it or not. It went unspoken, but perhaps in a corner of his mind, somewhere within the most distant recesses of his soul—though, did he even have a soul anymore?—to be human, or at least to remember it, was something he wanted. When he used to wander through the deserts of Hueco Mundo, struggling to survive, he couldn't remember any other motive except to simply make it to the next day. That was just the way the world of the Hollows worked. But humans, they had so much. They had these emotions and relationships with people that meant everything to them that would drive them to become so strong that it was something truly to be admired. They had something that made living meaningful.

A head of bright orange hair quickly flashed in Grimmjow's mind.

'That moment we attained consciousness, we regained our consciousness from our past lives as humans. We fought so hard to avoid regression to Gillians when we were Adjuchas. Can you remember why? Humans are born with this privilege, yet so many of them foolishly throw it away like trash,' Harribel said, silent judgment in her narrowed eyes. 'And if you desire further proof that we have only become more human, take a look at yourself in the mirror and compare your appearance to any Menos.'

Yes, he had done exactly that.

'You needn't hide it, Grimmjow. I know that your memories come to you the same way they come to me.'

'Don't patronize me. I don't care how much you think you know; you don't know shit about me.' Grimmjow refused to look at her, afraid to see the knowing look in her eyes. He hated how she spoke with such authority. He unconsciously touched the tattooed six on his body, remembering how the difference in rank between the two of them was quite literally indelible.

'I'm heading inside. Grimmjow,' she said, acknowledging him with a slight nod, and then turned to walk indoors.

With Harribel now absent, Grimmjow felt the emptiness of Hueco Mundo amplify. The vast desert stretched out before him, an infinity that seemed to sequester him in this corner of the world from what lay beyond. For a while, he had been absolutely fine with it. As loathe as he was to admit it, serving under Aizen had been good. He didn't have to think of what to do; someone told him something to do and he'd do it, even if he hated his guts in process. He'd take his sword and kill whoever Aizen sent him to kill. That was his purpose: having none.

And then he had met that substitute Shinigami, who had quite seriously turned Grimmjow's world upside down, throwing everything he thought he knew into the air and re-arranging his world. Through a single taste of kindness, that damn orange-haired bastard had re-directed Grimmjow's thoughts back to his past humanity once again. And now, instead of wandering aimlessly through his existence as he had originally planned, he wanted to seek out purpose. He didn't know what he was looking for; he just knew he needed to find it. And in his gut, he thought he'd be able to find the answer with Kurosaki Ichigo.

Perhaps a rematch was in order…

Grimmjow then leapt off the balcony, landing on sand that made a dull 'thud' beneath his weight. Shaking the sand off his feet, Grimmjow walked on forward, throwing only a brief parting glance over his shoulder at Las Noches.

End of Part 1

Notes: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	2. Part 2

Numbers

Part 2

By Rome OMD

Grimmjow bolted upright.

Instinctively, he surveyed his surroundings with a tightened grip on his sword, his blue eyes keenly darting back and forth for any signs of danger in the nighttime darkness around him. All was as it was before he had fallen asleep on this high tree branch: quiet, desolate, and most importantly, obscured from public view. Despite the war being over, he couldn't take any chances, as there were still plenty of people out there who feared his kind and wouldn't hesitate to eliminate him the moment his guard be let down.

Reassured that he was in no acute danger, Grimmjow breathed out a sigh of relief before tiredly rubbing his eyes and resting his head against his arms. His heart was racing, hammering against his chest with such nervous energy as if struggling to leap out of his ribcage. A passing breeze that brushed against the new layer of sweat on his skin sent a wave of chills dancing down his body like a pair of cold hands stroking his back.

It was the dream again. The same aggravating, where-the-hell-did-that-come-from dream. The first time it happened was on the same night he had left Las Noches. He'd woken up in a cold sweat, but thinking it was a one-time thing, passed it off as a nightmare he wouldn't have to deal with again. Since then, however, it had come to haunt him with ever more frequency and ever increasing vividness, which, to Grimmjow's infuriation, his body certainly didn't fail to notice. And if tonight were any indication, it showed no signs of relenting anytime soon.

'Not again! What the hell is wrong with me?' Grimmjow despairingly said to himself. Uninvited images kept repeating themselves eidetically in his mind's eye. He forcefully curled his fingers against his scalp, desperate for some—_any_—cathartic release.

They were _enemies_; nothing had happened that should've led Grimmjow to entertain these dreams. The last time he interacted with the substitute Shinigami, he was trying to _kill_ him. In fact, every time since they first met, Grimmjow had no other intent than to fight him. So, how did it ever get to the point where…? Grimmjow suddenly wanted to throw up.

There were variations on what happened, depending on whatever creative kink Grimmjow's mind had conjured up that sleep cycle, but they generally ended up with the substitute Shinigami lying beneath him, breathing heavily, as he looked up at him with those damn eyes: eyes that were warm yet heated, challenging yet inviting, always passionate and never failing to fill Grimmjow with a stirring heat that overwhelmed his entire body and pooled emphatically in his lower abdomen.

The most recent episode found Grimmjow going beyond the usual few kisses and exploratory touches (which were definitely alarming enough) of his previous dreams. He moved with an insatiable hunger; it was as if he just couldn't get enough. He delved into Ichigo's mouth, wanting to know every contour. He caressed every inch of exposed skin, wanting to feel the rise and dip of his muscles. And oh, how he kissed all along Ichigo's flushed face, lips, neck, chest, belly—_anywhere_—just wanting to see Ichigo twist and moan in pleasure.

And then he woke up, and it had unceremoniously stopped before it could get any farther. On one hand, he was absolutely relieved. ('It's only a dream. It's not real,' Grimmjow repeated to himself.) But on the other hand, he became all too aware of how much emptier it felt without Ichigo, even if Dream-Ichigo was just a figment of his imagination. Now Grimmjow sat, confused and unsure, and kept reminding himself that there was no way Ichigo would even _think_ about thinking of Grimmjow in that way. Unable to sleep now, he leaned back against the trunk, tilting his head to look up at the sky through the leaves and branches settled above him.

_What is this? Why do I feel this way?_ Grimmjow groaned to himself.

Yet another thing to add to his list of unresolved issues. As if he didn't already have a lot to sort out on his own.

* * *

Ichigo still felt a bit strange at the normalcy of it all. Going to school, sitting through classes, and waving goodbye to his friends at the end of the day before walking home, where he ate dinner with his family and did his homework. Then he headed to bed and repeated it all in the morning. It was simple and like clockwork, which starkly contrasted with the way his life had been before these recent months.

Looking at Keigo's smiling face as they left school told Ichigo that his friend and probably everyone else in Karakura had absolutely no clue how close the world had been to complete annihilation. Memories of the war remained fresh in his mind; there was no way Ichigo could walk away from all of that unaffected. But neither could Ishida, Chad, nor Inoue, with whom he shared a tacit understanding whenever they were together. He was thankful for that support; he didn't know how well he'd otherwise have handled it all if he had to shoulder the burden alone.

Occasionally, a rogue Hollow would appear around town that required Ichigo's intervention. But apart from these intermittent encounters, there were very few reminders of his previous life as a substitute Shinigami. He wasn't sure if he missed it or not, but he couldn't deny the comfort he felt from holding his zanpakuto in his hands and the thrill from fighting again.

Either way, Ichigo kept reminding himself that that chapter of his life was closed. He needed to move on.

Which was why when he was doing his homework one night and felt a familiar energy signature emanating from beyond his window, Ichigo was shocked to find a certain Espada perched on the neighboring rooftop, watching him with guarded eyes.

'Grimmjow?' Ichigo asked. He could hardly believe it. He was certain Grimmjow had died after being struck by Nnoitra. He quickly got out of his initial stupor and changed into his Shinigami robes, opening his window and leaping towards Grimmjow to meet him.

Ichigo's heart was pounding in his chest. Was it because he was excited to fight again, adrenaline flowing through his veins in anticipation? Or was it because he was glad to see an old remnant of his former life? Or was it because…

Ichigo watched Grimmjow. He had never noticed before, but Grimmjow had really blue eyes. They were captivating.

… _because what?_ Ichigo asked himself.

Grimmjow leapt into the sky so that he was suspended several feet above Ichigo in midair. Looking down his nose, Grimmjow said, 'You promised, Kurosaki. You said that you would battle me again. I'm here to make sure you follow up on your promise.'

When Ichigo had said that, he didn't think his offer would've actually been taken up. As he watched the figure haughtily staring down at him, Ichigo sensed something different with Grimmjow this time around. He didn't look any differently and didn't seem to behave any differently, if his desire to establish dominance—even if just by jumping into the air above Ichigo—was any indication. Despite all of that, he knew that there was something _off_, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

However, this was not the time to think about that, at least not when Grimmjow was pointing his sword straight at Ichigo's face.

'Okay, Grimmjow. I accept. But we're going to change venues. This battle is between you and me, so we're not going to involve any innocent civilians here. Follow me,' Ichigo said and leapt away before Grimmjow had the opportunity to protest.

They ended up at the edge of town, where the skeleton of a once-thriving business park existed. _Perfect_, Ichigo thought as he found a relatively large clearing in between some abandoned buildings. He turned around when he heard the sound of feet landing on the ground and only by the skin of his teeth was Ichigo able to block Grimmjow's incoming attack.

'Whoa, hold on!'

'You want to play fair? Sorry, but you've picked a fight with the wrong guy.' Grimmjow swung his zanpakuto towards Ichigo and missed, though Ichigo just narrowly dodged it.

'No, that's not what I meant—damn it, Grimmjow!'

Grimmjow took advantage of Ichigo's confusion and kicked Ichigo in the abdomen, forcefully knocking him down onto the dirt floor. He watched as a layer of dust settled over the Shinigami's prostrate body. Using his zanpakuto to support himself, Ichigo slowly got back to his feet.

'I'm going to beat you senseless and then grind your pathetic little skull into the ground until there's absolutely nothing left,' Grimmjow said. He charged at Ichigo with Sonido. 'You'll regret leaving me alive. Your mercy will be your undoing.'

'Grimmjow!' Ichigo barely managed as he blocked another attack.

'I'm going to win. I'm going to prove this to myself. I'll find it… I'll finally find it!' Grimmjow said.

'What the hell are you talking about? Find what?'

Ichigo looked around. The Arrancar had abruptly disappeared from his sight. Scowling, Ichigo took up a defensive stance. He was frustrated; had just a few months of inactivity truly impacted him this much? Whereas previously, he was arguably one of the most powerful Shinigami in all of Soul Society, he now felt sluggish, struggling to keep up with the sharpness and speed of Grimmjow's movements.

Then he heard it: Grimmjow landing right behind him. Ichigo whirled around.

Grimmjow's grin was feral. 'Too slow, Shinigami.'

Ichigo saw only a blinding light before he felt a burning force drive deep into his chest, throwing him backwards against a building wall. He fell onto the ground in a disorganized heap, pieces of the mortar wall crumbling down beside his weak body.

'That's it? This is all you've got?' Grimmjow spat with derision. He marched up to Ichigo's limp body and pulled him up by the collar. This_ is the person who has endlessly ravaged my thoughts? _

Grimmjow recalled their first meeting in Karakura. Prior to that, he hadn't felt that level of excitement from battle in years. When he met Ichigo, he remembered how thrilled he was to find someone so interesting, who was as electrically invigorated by their fights as he was, and someone he wanted to beat so badly. It was as if their fights delivered a continuous hit of endorphins through his body. But now, as he showered a storm of punches against Ichigo's weakened figure, he felt everything but.

Y_ou've made me so weak. I'm going insane, Kurosaki, because I can't think about anything but you. This can't continue. I need to get you out of my system. _And in a twisted and confused corner of his mind, he thought, _Maybe if I can beat you here… just maybe, I can beat you out of my mind and heart too._

The pain felt endless. Ichigo could barely even find the opportunity to catch his breath in between all the punches Grimmjow was landing against his body. Even though his nerves were screaming with pain and told him to _stay still, don't move, this'll be over soon_, Ichigo defied his protesting body and weakly grabbed onto Grimmjow's hand, which was still latched onto his collar, and opened his eyes.

Grimmjow stilled.

His hand felt just as warm as before.

Grimmjow suddenly released his hold and jumped back, creating a good distance between the two. He watched as Ichigo slumped forward and fell on all fours, violently coughing up blood.

_Those eyes… you always look like you're going to win, no matter how badly you're beaten up. Yet no matter what I've done to you, you're still going to be merciful to me._

'Why, Shingami? Why! Why are you making this so damn difficult!" Grimmjow shouted. 'I can't stand this anymore. Grind, _Pantera_!' He felt a surge of energy overtake his body, ready for the pain that would surely come as his muscles and bones morphed into their new appearances.

When he realized Grimmjow was preparing to assume his released form, Ichigo forced himself to stand back up. Instead of an immediate transformation, he noticed Grimmjow struggling, taking much more time than he had before to transform. Without a second thought, Ichigo took advantage of Grimmjow's momentary immobilization and summoning every bit of energy left in his reserves, released a powerful _Getsuga tenshou_ with his zanpakuto, successfully knocking the Arrancar off his feet. Ichigo then quickly pinned him to the ground. He knocked Grimmjow's sword aside and held his blade next to Grimmjow's neck, preventing the latter from attempting any sudden movements. He knew his body was wearied but at least he might be able to hold his own for a little while if they were like this.

But little did he expect Grimmjow's body to simply fall limp. There wasn't even a hint of a struggle or retaliation.

Perhaps it was a trick. Ichigo pressed his blade even closer.

'Oi, what was that? Why'd you hesitate?' Ichigo asked. As he examined Grimmjow's torso, he found his answer: small rivulets of blood were running down Grimmjow's side. He didn't need to ask to know where it was coming from. 'This is from that time with Nnoitra, isn't it? It still hasn't healed yet?'

No answer.

'Grimmjow?'

Grimmjow turned his head to face Ichigo, his blue eyes angry and—did Ichigo truly see it?—defeated. Ignoring the fact that an extremely sharp blade was being pressed right against his skin, the Arrancar began to move, slowly trying to sit himself up. Not quite knowing what to do, Ichigo clumsily followed Grimmjow's lead all the while keeping his sword at level with the Arrancar's throat. Eventually, Grimmjow managed to sit himself up, and having not budged from his original position, Ichigo now found himself awkwardly straddling his lap, stunned. This position suddenly didn't feel as advantageous as it had just been moments ago, Ichigo thought.

Never breaking eye contact, Grimmjow gingerly reached for Ichigo's sword and moved it to the side so that it no longer acted as a dividing barrier between the two of them.

Ichigo was very confused. He felt Grimmjow's body heat radiating onto his own, and as the Arrancar leaned forward, he could feel the exhalations of Grimmjow's breathing starting to ghost upon his skin.

'What… what are you doing?'

Grimmjow's dreams paled in comparison to this. Imagining what it was like to be this close to Ichigo was one thing, but to actually _be_ this close was something else completely. It was electrifying, almost dizzying. As rampant as his imagination would get sometimes, Grimmjow could never have truly known how warm Ichigo's body would feel next to his or how magnetic those amber eyes would be looking at him, as they were now.

Grimmjow raised his hand and with a surge of boldness, reached up to cup Ichigo's face. _Why am I doing this?_ he thought. More importantly, _why aren't I stopping_?_ It's as if my body is moving of its own accord._

Expecting Ichigo to pull away or perhaps more mercifully, slice him in two with his bankai, Grimmjow paused. But neither happened. Ichigo remained where he was, watching him intensely, and never moving away. His eyes were then drawn to Ichigo's lips. But as he drew nearer, he saw something glow in his peripheral vision.

'Move, Kurosaki!' Grimmjow yelled, shoving the Shinigami out of the way.

Ichigo turned just in time to see Grimmjow fall to the ground as a _cero_ blasted him directly on the back. The culpable Hollow was quickly making its way towards them. Ichigo immediately grabbed his sword and dealt an especially powerful blow against the Hollow, destroying it with just one hit. Zanpakuto gripped tightly in hand, Ichigo scanned the area to make sure that there weren't any more unseen Hollows hanging around nearby. When he was satisfied, Ichigo turned his attention back to the fallen Arrancar and kneeled beside his unconscious body.

Ichigo's eyes were drawn to the bloodstains on Grimmjow's torso. _To think that you bleed too. Just like us humans, the very ones you hate._

He placed two fingers against the side of Grimmjow's neck to feel for the steady pulsations of his carotid artery. When he felt it, he subsequently released a sigh of relief. The Arrancar's heart and lungs seemed to be working just fine; he was just knocked unconscious. Ichigo took a quick glance at the wound marring Grimmjow's shoulder from his previous encounter with Nnoitra. It appeared to be in the middle of healing, which was probably what caused Grimmjow to hesitate earlier when he was trying to take on his released form. The injury looked like it would take a while for it to completely heal.

Unless…

It was almost automatic. Ichigo didn't quite know what had overtaken him as he took out cell phone and texted Inoue.

'Sorry to text you so late at night, but could you spare some time to help me out with something?'

_What am I doing?_

'Of course, Kurosaki-kun! What can I do?'

_He came to fight me, _kill_ me even._

'It's a little difficult to explain over text… let's meet up and I'll explain then.'

_But something's different this time._

'K… where should I meet you, Kurosaki-kun?'

_At least things won't be so mundane anymore._

End of Part 2

Notes: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. As you can guess, there will be more Grimmjow/Ichigo interactions in subsequent chapters.^^ Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far!


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